


The Aftermath

by Venira



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Borderlands: Tales from the Borderlands, F/M, Other, Reader-Insert, crying in happiness, overwhelmed with hecking love for these readers that encourage me, so grateful to all these people reading my stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-28 21:33:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14458185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venira/pseuds/Venira
Summary: Spoilers aheadfor Tales From the Borderlands!: After Rhys and Fiona disappear into the Vault, Vaughn, Sasha, Athena, Loaderbot, and the rest of the gang are left behind to deal with the aftermath of the mystery. A familiar Echo-Eye has been found discarded at the scene, and the group of friends are on a mission to discover where their missing Vault-hunting comrades have gone.A certain person,you, the protagonist of this story, is sought out to resolve the issue. Where are Rhys and Fi now? What might the Echo-Eye reveal? And who exactly are you, in this tale?(And okayyesthere's something cliche about your character that you'll find out but just trust me, okie?)(Rated teen+ for language, violence, and somewhat mature themes. Mainly for the violence though, I'm gonna get a bit gory! But if you've played Borderlands I'm sure it's nothing you're not used to...)





	1. Prologue: One Trick Pony

A warm cracked road was set before you, nothing out of the ordinary as a strong gust caused a broken skull to tumble past. You arched your head up toward an old rusted billboard, seeing past the blood splatters, dust, rakk dookie, and graffiti, to read the faded text beneath. "Dedie's Gun Shup," it read. You'd always been pretty sure he meant something like "Deady's," and "Gun Shop," but it wasn't like there were many great spellers out in the Borderlands. You hurriedly locked up your ride and began inside the shop under the sign.

Pushing the metal door back, it cried on its hinges and slapped the fortified wall behind it. You stepped through, and walked forward briskly until you found the counter. A bell was there, and you rang it 3 times impatiently. "Deady!" You called out, leaning one elbow forward and looking to the back of the shop, waiting for him to enter the room, drumming your fingers against the warm steel supporting your arm.

You heard some sort of fall and a small clash of clutter, with the words "Yep, uhhhh gimme a minute" muffled through the wall of his office.

"I can't give you a minute if I don't got one!" You answered back, not really meaning to be snappy but requiring his immediate attention.

"Okay, okay!" Seconds later, Deady came jogging out from around the corner as his usual self. Tan skin, narrow eyes, dark unkempt hair, grease stained clothes and all. "What's the big dealio, (y/n)?"

"I need a quick fix. Pistol, preferably incendiary. Not my usual go but it's what I need right now. Oh, and maybe one of those shock sort of shotguns, if you have any of those." You took out your cash as you continued talking, wondering what else you might need for the events ahead of you.

"You mean a zapper? Mmm, lemme check." Deady then crouched down and pulled out some crates from under the counter, scrounging through them and on the racks of the wall behind him.

After only about half a minute, you couldn't keep your patience. "Okay okay, just the pistol!" you blurted.

"Calm your tits, I'm doin' my best," Deady assured. He wiped the sweat from his brow with one hand while continuing to search with the other, soon after coming up with an Incendiary Greed, sliding it onto the counter as he stood back up. "Now what's your problem? It's not like-"

A car door slammed outside. Then another. The hums of ignitions faded to nothing, and grumbling voices were heard faintly through the walls.

 _"That's_ my problem," you replied quietly, snatching the pistol, throwing a good amount of cash his way, and lightly dashing towards a different exit. Carefully you clicked the latch open and stepped outside, then pushed the door back behind you though not fully closed for fear of making noise. Placing yourself up against the back wall of the shop, or "shup," you waited in anticipation.

...After a few moments of warily listening to footsteps through sand and pebbles, the familiar wail of a door's hinges, and some dusty boots against metal flooring, you heard the voice you dreaded to hear.

"She's here. Where." 

You began to load bullets into your new gun, at this point.

It wasn't like his presence wasn't probable or anything, but you had _really_ just been hoping the idiot had fallen out of his racer and been trampled by his goons' vehicles on the way to you.

"Well, mm, I mean, _yes_ , she _was_ here. You're r-right on that, sir." In your mind you could almost see Deady turning his hands, the nervousness in his voice was so palpable.

"But I'm afraid she just left. Mhm. Truly. J-Just, just up and ran. I mean, look here. Didn't even have time to count out her money," he said shakily, picking up some of the scattered bills from beyond your view, using them as a gesture to what he meant.

"That information isn't useful to me," replied the dread man matter-of-factly, who went by Kembet. A bounty hunter, though one who had a considerable amount of bounties on himself, given the criminal activities he partook in on the side.

"Where are you hiding (y/n)? We know she's here, her ride is just outside your door," he stated coolly.

"Yes, erm, well, I did say she _ran_ out. Didn't, mm, d-didn't say she drove off, now."

You inwardly face-palmed yourself, remembering this weird thing Deady had about lying to people. His moral inability to. _Well he's not going to be able to lie **or** tell the truth once I'm done with him after this._

"You three, scout the perimeter," you heard Kembet order some of his bandits.

As you listened to the trio nearing the back door you hid against, you quickly decided to take the jump on them. Grabbing the outside handle with one hand, you flung the door out and open and ran in front of the doorway, rapidly firing at the incoming bandits. They were surprised, and you landed two in the head and one in the chest. The last one didn't die immediately, but the ensuing fire charred him to his end, your incendiary rounds taking effect.

Their bodies folded to the ground, blood blooming from their wounds and burns searing their flesh. There was a while of silence as their shouts and your gunshots still rang in the air, Kembet turned to look at you.  


"And the search comes to an end," he said, somewhat smugly. "It was a good chase, too bad it's over."

"N-Now now, you're j-jumping to conclusions," you replied, voice a little shaken. There was Kembet and around 8 other bandits, against you and the _slight_ possibility of Deady's help. Things weren't looking great.

"I don't think we're really done yet."

"Oh, and I think you're in denial, kid," Kembet replied, now pacing with his arms held behind his back. "You know your position. You know things aren't the same as before."

...Things were different, admittedly. Your original weapons had been confiscated, lost, broken. You missed them dearly. Moreso then some of the people you had lost in the times since, which should say something about how much you loved those damn guns. There were 8 bandits now rather than 17 from before, and... wait. _There aren't 8._

Suddenly, an arm threw itself around your neck and pulled you back outside, forcing you onto the ground. _That shit was stalling me! Ah, fuck!_ you thought gaspingly within the chokehold.

Your free hand flailed searchingly, and finding his ankle you grabbed it and jerked it at an angle, causing the bandit to crumple. You sharply and rapidly elbowed your way out of his grasp, and were up and had your barrel to his forehead until you saw another goon behind him. You darted to the side, dodging his punch.

As he was still falling forward from the lack of impact, you went behind him and slammed him into the metal back door, effectively closing it. It would only buy you a little time, as now they would just need to force the door or use the opposite exit, but at least for now you could avoid gunfire from inside.

The slammed bandit now stunned, you grabbed him by his hair and began to repeatedly smash his head into the metal of the door. He screamed through the blood and flesh ripping down his face and into his mouth.  


Seeing a shock grenade at his hip, you clumsily activated it, pulled him back by the collar, swung open the door, and forcefully kicked his half-standing body into the shop. "Surprise!"

_BZZZZZZTTTTT_

The 6 bandits fried; contorting, twisting, painfully enraptured by the electricity. The grenade killed the bandit you had just thrown, but the rest were just put out of the fight for a while. Unfortunately Deady had been shocked too, but you knew he'd be alright later.

Turning from the doorway, you were immediately grabbed by the throat and lifted into the air. _Kembet, you son of a bitch._ You kicked him hard in the chest but he didn't care, instead turning around and throwing you hard into the dust.

Your pistol spun away out of reach, and a rakk screeched overhead. You were having trouble catching your breath and began picking yourself up, only to be pulled up by the shoulder and then decked in the face powerfully. You heard some things crack or pop, and your head span as you fell out to the ground again.  


"And you were doing so well," Kembet said, clapping his hands free of dust. Your ears were ringing and your head was swimming, so you heard it more like an evil slow-clap of disappointment. "But that's enough tricks for today."

Grabbing both your wrists with one hand, he began dragging your bruised half-concussed body back to a technical, the bandit outside that you hadn't yet killed soon after following suit.

You winced as your body was hauled over bumps of rough terrain, feeling every tug. Yet after a particularly sharp rock jabbed into your ribs while being pulled along, your systems were startled by a blurt of adrenaline, pulling you out of your downed state. 

...You couldn't just let it end here, this would only happen again and again, haunting you like a phantom.

As quick as you could, you used your arm strength to yank yourself forward in his grip and bite him in the ankle, rabid with a need to escape. Kembet let out a shout and in pain and shock his hand jerked open, releasing you. Blood began to pool through his cargo pants, while getting up you fell backwards onto the other bandit behind you, still a tad offset.

However, it was a pretty effective move on your part, as when you fell to the bandit, you were able to grab him off guard and turn his body to accept the bullets you knew Kembet would start firing.

...And it was seamless, the armored bandit took the wounds and Kembet was surprised. As he now had to reload his clip, you grabbed the SMG from the bandit you held's hip and started to spray and pray, hitting Kembet twice in the hip, twice in and around the shoulder, and once in the thigh. The gun had some pretty shit accuracy, but you supposed it got the job done.

This time it was Kembet reeling from an attack. You stepped over the bandit he inadvertently killed, now gritting a out smile through your pain, happy with this outcome.

"Ghh..." He was on his knees, gritting and grunting in pain, holding the new holes in his shoulder, gun on the ground. You walked over slowly, and upon reaching him you hit his head with the butt of your looted gun, stunning him if not knocking him out entirely. His cheek laid smushed to the dust, some blood dribbling from his lip.

You took a quick moment to revel in how pathetic he seemed.

You then dropped the gun and headed over to get your new Incendiary Greed back from where it had skittered off to, holstering it. As you glanced over your shoulder to see Kembet staying slumped in the sand, you returned, removed his earpiece, and walked to the side of the gun shop, crudely attempting to wipe it clean with your dirty and blood-moist fingers as you went.

Next was logging into the EchoNet. Yesterday Kembet had smashed your earpiece underfoot, so it became time to start anew. Hopefully any messages or calls would sync; this was your first time with a new piece, so you weren't sure how it would all work out.

After coughing out some dust and battle-wear, you spoke "Log out" into the piece while holding it's activation button, leaning against a metal support beam keeping up a rusted hatch awning. "Logged out of EchoNet, please come back soon," it replied. _Good._ "Log in. Username BrassSkag. Password XJ633."

There was a small beep, and then the words "Access granted, welcome back." It worked. Everything suddenly seemed to be looking up for you, things so different only minutes before. You hooked the piece along your ear, listening to the hum of your account being reaccessed as you began back into the shop, buzzing with a positive and unfamiliar mood.

Unholstering your new gun, you made sure to give any unconscious bandits a hearty shot in the head, as "sufficient reason" to finally die. Some were half-awake, and put up a little fight...but only a little, never enough.

"Deady," you called out, wondering if he was awake. You heard a bit of movement, and walked towards it to find him laying behind the counter, twitching. 

"Come on, you okay?" You began lifting him up to a sitting position, letting out an "ouch" as you received some of the shock. He sputtered and his eyes bolted open, looking at you and letting your face register.

"(Y/n)... We made it?"

"Mhm. And you did most of the work, don't you remember?" It was fun messing with the guy.

"I d-did? I-I mean, I did! Wow, what a fight!" You smiled, patting the elated friend on the back. He clearly fell on his head. Or maybe got a bit too much electricity to the brain. But ah, he'd be okay.

"Yeah, and look at this big _mess_! That's too bad. Listen, I really gotta go now," you cut to the point. "Think you can take care of this for me? Feel free to keep their loot."

"Y-yeah, can do. Maybe lookin' 'em in the eyes will remind me of when I put a bullet between 'em, ha!"

 _Oof, I hope he does okay._ "Well good, thank you. I just have a little bit of business to take care of and I'll be outta here."

You gave him one last pat on the shoulder before heading out the back door again, ready to be through with Kembet and this entire ordeal. 

You'd never really get to stop running, and you knew it. All you would get is chances to catch your breath now and then, even if Kembet was gone. But at least for now on there should be less races to be done, less enemies, less threats, less battles to be won or killed trying.

Stepping over bodies until you got to the metal door, you clicked open the blood-slick handle to reveal the scene of two bandits helping an awakened Kembet into his technical.

_What the fuck?!_

Both had large sniper rifles slung over their backs, so you could assume why you didn't notice them in the fight before... They must have been farther off. _But seriously, are you kidding me?!_

You didn't hesitate bringing out your pistol and firing at the three, but one of the snipers had heard the door open and began to fire in return with their backup SMG, forcing you to roll out of the way and rely on inaccuracy as you continued to pull the trigger rapidly. 

_Fuck. **Fuck**._

You hid back inside the shop for a moment, sliding more bullets into your revolver chamber, and jumped back out as you heard the ignition start to rev.

_No! I'm not fucking dealing with this!_

You began shooting wildly, hoping to hit anything, pop a tire, pop a pipe off, pop a head off a set of shoulders...yet at the same time you were still being shot at too, constantly having to duck away from the bursts and peek back out while they reloaded.

As they sped up, you lobbed two grenades towards the technical, but they began off so fast that it would've been extremely difficult for anyone to throw that far, at least far enough in advance of the vehicle that they'd detonate at the right time. Instead they just caused large poofs of sand and rock to go flying across the tire tracks.

_I'm. Screwed._

Then, with a pained groan, you just collapsed onto your knees, watching the dust of their escape rise over the horizon, over dunes, over wastes. You were so ready for it all to be over. And it just slipped from your fingers.

There was the question of why you didn't kill him moments before, when there was the chance to. Even now you felt the regret at not taking action then. But, well, there was a certain way you had wanted it to go down.

He had been chasing for so long, so many people have been chasing, and it just felt like when you accumulated an enemy of that kind of magnitude that, well, there should be some dramatic conclusion. A monologue of sorts, a suspenseful end-line, a gripping sense of reality as one slowly put a barrel to the adversary's head, pulling the trigger and giving that signification that it was over. It was almost like closure for the victor. 

You wanted it, you saw it in your mind. And then you blew it up, explosions of failure like the grenades tossed in futility.

"Hey, I was thinking you should have a snack before heading out," Deady said, breaking thought, carefully exiting out into the open with a granola bar in hand.

"Thanks," you replied, eyes still glazed and looking towards the enemy route. You pushed yourself to standing and stumbled, but he caught you by the shoulder. "You should also rest up a bit," he said, with a tone of worry. "Just 'til your strength is back."

"Sure... That would be good." You both made your way back inside, putting events behind you as you closed the picture of the dead behind the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hope you thought this chapter was okay! Thanks so much for reading it!  
> I know a lot of you might not at all be here for the story bits, and many just for the Handsome Jack parts which will come up pretty soon, and I completely get that! And so I'm sorry if this chapter got a bit too long, it's more just a prologue but I didn't know when would be a good time to stop and I wanted to introduce you to a bit of my writing style first, plus some random characters that will probably be mentioned later on.  
> Anyways, feel free to let me know your thoughts! I'd absolutely love to hear them!  
> (Also, some parts of this chapter were somewhat inspired by the song One Trick Pony by Royal Blood, if you'd like to listen to that! The beginning especially has a very Borderlands feel to it.  
> Also also, anyone catch my Candide reference?)


	2. Through My Eyes

It was a relatively boring drive, there was no music. Your radio was shot, literally and therefore metaphorically. Only rushing sand and pebbles could be heard as your racer traversed grand dunes, heading East.

Yet suddenly, a rapid tone began to sound in your ear piece, alerting you of an incoming call. With one hand still guiding the wheel, you let the other hold the button to accept it.

"Yello, who's this?" you asked casually, watching your path with narrowed eyes as a pack of Skags threatened to scamper in the way.

"(Y/n)! It's August. Can you come by the Purple Skag?" he asked.

"Awww, no 'I'm so glad you're okay!,' or 'happy you're safe, (y/n)?'" you teased him.

"Bah, I know they dragged you out and all but I knew you'd be okay," he explained, and in the background you could faintly hear the whines of him rubbing shot glasses clean. "...You are okay, right?" he probed, with a small yet cute hint of worry. It was sweet knowing _someone_ cared about your problems and well-being (even if they'd never really admit it themselves).

"Eh... it's complicated," you answered simply. Rubbing the back of your head with your other hand, the one steering, you allowed your knees to come up and take the wheel for a while. It was generally clear, there wasn’t much dangerous activity to look out for. Honestly, pretty unusual.

Today you had been blessed with only seeing technicals in the distance now and then, maybe hearing some gunshots and shouting every other hour. In the current moment, the closest bandit to you was the one that was dead, and stuck in your front bumper.

You had named him Lorenzo.

"Anyways, what do you need me for?" you asked.

"Ah, well... Best not to say over the line," August replied mysteriously. "All you need to know for now is that it might interest you, and that... well, it's kinda important to me. ...The main situation, I mean."

"Sure, sure. I'll see you when I can, then."

"Good, catch ya later," he signed off. Then it was just you, the dust, and Lorenzo again.

* * *

After locking up your parked racer at the back of his bar, you padded up the back steps and headed inside.

A barrage of smoky scents with just a tint of recent vomit hit your nose, and you held in a cringe. You could tell it had been a busy night.

Luckily, it was now morning. Very, very early, morning. When all the drunks were passed out, gone, or dead against tables, and all that could be heard over the faint jukebox were snores muffled into sleepy elbows or echoing into empty tankards.

“Hey, glad you made it,” August greeted quietly, not wanting to rouse the violent crowd back into action. He came to a side of his counter and lifted a wooden plank to let you inside. Following him, he led you to a back room.

There, you easily noticed a relatively short man, in a sort of hood that was dark enough to contrast with his tanned legs and sandalled feet. He sat in the tattered booth of a decommissioned table, fingers steepled.

“I gotta get back to watching the guys out front,” August began, “but you’ll be fine with introductions on your own.” He offered a nod, and then left, closing the door behind him.

Awkwardly, you scooted yourself into the seat across from the stranger. His face was shrouded, and the hanging light directly overhead didn’t help with the shadow effect it played.

“Sooooo, um…” you started, and then cleared your throat. “I heard you need someone to get a job done.”

“Indeed,” the man replied in a serious tone, voice a bit… warped, and low. “A sacred mission. We believe you are the only one able to stop the menace.”

“Uhhh, what?” you asked, letting your expression show just how ridiculous he sounded.

Laughing, he joked, “Nah, I’m just kidding,” his voice now way more normal and very familiar. His hands pulled back his hood, revealing an old friend.

“Vaughn!” you said happily, louder though careful not to exclaim. “You ridiculous dork.” Both of you stood up and gave a quick hug over the table.

“It’s been a while,” you continued, sitting yourself back down.

“Yeah, it has!” he agreed. “But you know me, I couldn’t help making a dramatic entrance.”

“What has it been? 5 years? 6? Hard to keep track. You look like you’ve been busy though,” you commented smilingly, gesturing to his get up and an obviously swole bod underneath. “What do you do, wrestle bullymongs now?”

“Something like that,” he replied, still smiling.

You relaxed your shoulders, glad to be in the presence of familiar company. “So what’s this about?” you wondered. “I assume this isn’t just to meet up again, but that doesn’t offend me.”

Wiping sweat from the back of his neck as his smile faded, he uttered an uncertain, “Well…” It was clear he didn’t know how to approach the topic, though admittedly it was a pretty interesting request.

“You remember Rhys, right? My best friend? My bro? Broseph? Broski? Brotato? Brotein shake? All-around bro?” Vaughn asked.

Offering a snort of amusement, you began, “How could I forget! You two were as close as two bullets in a… two-bullet derringer. Cyborg guy, right? Robot arm and something wrong with his face?"

"Yep, you're thinking of his Echo-Eye," he replied, nodding. "Funny that should be our topic, because... Ah... Um, well... Actually, do you think you could drive me back to my base and I'll tell you on the way? I don't have a ride back, and it's a bit of a story."

"...I don't see why not," you said, shrugging. "Let's go."

* * *

"I had never felt so alive!" said Vaughn, laughing his little heart out at the recollections of fighting the Traveler. "Absolutely crazy. In the moment I guess I just... Let go, almost. I'm pretty different now."

"Definitely sounds crazy," you replied, very intrigued by his tale. "Surprised I never heard any news about it. The Vault, and the guardian, and _explosions_." You made sure the last word had a bit of a jazz hand gesture against the wheel. "Pretty sure everyone saw Helios blow to bits though. I know one family who brought out snacks and chairs and watched like it was fireworks."

"Haha, yeah, well... It wasn't all good stuff, that you'd want to talk about," he answered on a more pacified note. "Vallory and all her men were killed, so it's not like _they_ could talk about it. And even Sasha died... Though admittedly she came back to life."

"Huh?" You looked over at him with your head tilted and your eyebrows knotted, causing him to chuckle.

"That's another long weird story, for another time." You turned your eyes back to the road, making a sharp turn around a canyon crag. It was dark out, but the light of Elpis illuminated your path.

"Anyways," he continued, "There was this sort of... _Gate_ to the Vault, that appeared when we defeated the Traveler. Rhys and Fiona raced each other to it while the rest of us were divvying up loot, I watched them run off for second. Aaaaand when we went to follow a little bit later... It was closed. Like, completely. You know, with actual stone."

"Hmph. How'd you get out of that one?" you wondered.

"Y'see, that's the thing. They're still _missing_."

"Wow, really?" You veered onto a diverging trail, down a hill towards a basin of mechanical wreckage and makeshift buildings. "I'm sorry, Vaughn. That sounds terrible."

"Yeah... It's... Hard, not knowing if he's okay or not. And Fiona became my friend too, Sasha's about as worried as I am."

Parking your racer in front of the large warehouse he had pointed to, you both got out. "Do you want me to help with the investigation? Is that it?" you guessed.

"In... A bit of a weird way, yeah. But come inside for a second, Sasha can probably explain it better than me." Nodding, you followed him inside through a lit up garage.

Inside, a pair of legs with oil-stained jeans could be seen poking out from the underside of a vehicle, and you heard the hard clack of something metal hitting concrete. "Ah shit," the voice echoed from below, and you saw a circular bit roll out and into your path. The mechanic pushed themselves out on their roller and deftly grabbed it, but looking up saw you overhead. "Oh hey! Name's Janey," she greeted with a smile. "You must be my new patient."

"What?" You gave Vaughn a look of confusion, which just caused him to smile uncomfortably like he knew what she was talking about.

"Ya know," Janey continued, "cars are definitely my main dealio. Never done anythin' with a person before. But it should be fine," she assured. "Been readin' up on it. Eyes are like headlights, ya know?"

"Ummm, what is she talking about?" you asked Vaughn, your tone concerned.

"Oh haha, yeah well uh... Sasha?!" he called out. Soon after she came jogging around the corner of a hallway, expression quizzical but then lighting up.

"Hey, you're here! I'm Sasha," she introduced. Not really a person for handshakes, she instead kept her hands in her pockets and offered a nod. "So. ...What do you think?"

_Everyone here is a nut. An absolute nut. What is even happening?_

"Well, I'm... kind of hoping _you_ can tell me? Vaughn's been over here having an aneurysm or something and won't say what this is about," you replied, thumb gesturing his way as he gave you a childish sneer.

"Oh, right, I... was assuming you came because you'd agreed. Ah... Hm... Are you opposed to-"

"-having somethin' jammed in your eye?" cut in Janey, still smiling. You could tell she was... excited.

"Uh, no? Vaughn???" you asked for clarity. He gave a sheepish shrug as Sasha stumbled to explain.

"No, not _jammed!_ " Sasha scolded, and Janey laughed as she rolled herself back to the underside. "What she meant to say is _surgically implanted_ ," she continued to correct. "And it's not just 'something.' It's Rhys' Echo-Eye."

Before you could ask why, Vaughn finally took over. "We think it could help with our investigation," he explained, adjusting his glasses. "Maybe you'll find some clue, or something? A signal connected to Rhys, if maybe he still has the Hyperion tracker in his arm? We're not exactly sure what could be inside..."

"And _why_ would I do this?" you asked. "Further, at the hands of a semi-insane mechanic?"

"Uh, think of it this way," Sasha began again. "There's tons of cool features that come with it! Rhys once used it to tell that our Vault Key was a fake, and he could scan things, and it's just... Really useful with certain things. ...And we'll give you some money, too. Vaughn told me the way you work, mercenary/job-hunting type. Fiona and I once were in a similar line of work, before the Vault-Hunting. So there's that.

"And, _well_ , if the operation fails, you can always have an eye-patch. You'd get an excuse to wear one. They're pretty neat, right?"

"Pretty damn badass," interjected Janey, quietly echoing from under the technical.

"...I'd be under anesthesia, though?" You inquired. "And this would be a... Decent sum of cash?"

"Sure, yeah!" Sasha replied, glad you were showing interest.

"I'll, uh, talk to Vaughn about it, for a second." You grabbed his arm and began pulling him to the side, as Sasha walked over and crouched down to chat with Janey.

"You do realize this is insane, right?" you loud-whispered. "I mean do you even know me anymore? I'm not crazy enough to-"

He butted in with a pointed look, making you roll your eyes.

"Okay! So maybe I _am_ crazy enough to do something this weird. It's just... Definitely not what I was expecting. And I'm worried about junk scrambling up my eyes. I need these."

"Do you trust me?" asked Vaughn.

"I mean, yeah," you admitted.

"Then trust these guys. Our whole team has become this, odd conglomeration of weirdos, sure, but they've always held out for Rhys and I and they're... Basically a big group of friends, now. I'd trust them with my life."

"Ughhhh," you groaned, upset that he was convincing you. "How much money do I get?"

"$5,000."

"And I get to keep the Echo-Eye?"

"Yep."

Rubbing your forehead, you uttered a disgruntled "fine" to him, after a moment of inwardly scolding yourself for this decision. He smiled and gave you a hug, and assured you everything would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness me this chapter has so many ellipses... I'm going to have to work on that. (I counted 35.)


	3. Heart of Helios

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off I'm soOoOoo SORRY this is late!!! I kind of took a hiatus since I was overwhelmed with finals studies and then some mental health whateverness and then just a lot of weird summer crap, but I love to write and I love video games and so I'm back and YAY! This is also very exciting for me! I feel like garbage for leaving everyone hanging for such a while, and while I don't hate my writing or anything, I definitely didn't see this picking up as it has! :,^) please don't leave and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please let me know what you think!
> 
> (ALSO I just updated the last chapter with minor dialogue changes, maybe a new sentence here or there, nothing big at all, no need to re-read it, but I just thought I'd let you know! Just some little changes.)

_What's Vaughn's definition of “fine”?_ you couldn't help but wonder, as your eye throbbed dully. Admittedly, there was less blood than one could have thought there'd be. But who knew your local dingbat mechanic could double as your surgeon? Sure, a bit more of a techy job, but again. Not so much blood. 1 point to Janey.

Blinking was still pretty painful, and you could see red in the corners of your vision, but keeping your eyes open wasn't actually necessary to begin with. You wincingly watched the odd Eridium-powered light that hung from the ceiling, feeling thankful for a moment that it wasn't a regular and blinding light. You laid there for a bit in the dim purple room, wondering if this was something you'd come to regret.

_Well, when have I really regretted anything, though? ...Hmn, I mean... *there's that one time I tried cleaning up pet Skag crap, and thought it would be a fun idea spinning the dookie bag in a circle and just aiming at the chute with it. That stain is still on my apartment wall._

As the somewhat unsettling memory began to fade, still in your drowsy waking minutes... you began to hear a hushed voice. Low and uncertain. It sounded clear, as if they were in the room with you, but it didn't seem very loud or directed towards you either. Nonetheless, it was definitely alarming.

"...This...this doesn't make any sense..." whoever-it-was mumbled. Fairly startled, with wide eyes you looked over from your makeshift operating table to see a blue man had stumbled onto the floor, as if he had been propelled forward and then fell. Now he was looking around, staring at his hands and off into the distance, expression conveying that he was deep in thought.

"Fucking _great_. The anesthesia is still making me see shiz. Like blue flying men..." you muttered annoyedly, wiping a hand down your face and turning onto your back once more, staring up at the ceiling. "...Aaaaand I'm talking to myself,” you continued to complain, in a quieter tone. “Fantastic.”

With a quick glance back over your shoulder, you noticed that now the blue man was a bit startled by _you_. "This is so strange..." he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief, picking himself up off the floor.

Bored, and going against better judgement, you decided to flip back to face him and oblige your hallucination. "What's strange?" you asked.

"Hm? Oh, wellllllll uhhhh... nevermind. You probably wouldn't understand." He waved you off.

Inwardly shrugging, you replied, "Okay." You turned around to your other side, yet saw him run around the table to talk to you again.

"W-wait! I meannnnn uhhhh... Who... exactly are you, cupcake?" His tone of voice was more relaxed now, smoothing over his previous flustered revelation and now just inquisitive.

"Phht, cupcake?" you asked with a smile. "I'm (y/n), but I assure you I'm human. What about you, blue boy?"

"(Y/n)... Interesting, I like it," he complimented. "Me? I'm Jack, baby!"

You laughed a bit, the anesthesia inducing the response all the more fluidly. "Why do I get the feeling you're so full of yourself, Jack? We literally _just_ met, and already you're calling me 'cupcake' and 'baby.'"

"Don't tell me you don't like it," Jack teased with a comfortable smile, now leaning against a wall.

Thinking better than to roll your eyes at his faux suaveness, you admitted, "Yeah, well, this is the longest conversation I've ever had with a hallucination." Turning onto your back yet again, you yawned, and continued contemplating the ceiling light.

This time he laughed. "Hallucination, huh? That's real' cute," he said, smiling impishly.

Suddenly the door opened. Light spilled in, and you made out a silhouette.

"Hallucinations, still?" Athena asked derisively, nearly reading your mind, or maybe just the tired impatience of your expression. You had seen her briefly before your operation, returning from some other task. She had introduced herself and wished Janey and you good luck.

"What, are my mumblings that loud through the door?" you asked back, holding a hand above your eyes to shield them from the sudden brightness. It truly didn't help that one eye was still in a lot of strain and pain, but your eyes would have been surprised either way, you concluded. The dim could really be so comforting.

Athena sidled inside, closing the door behind her and stepping slowly up to the padded table, arms crossed in consideration. "Are you feeling alright? Janey wanted me to check in on you."

You gave a little stretch, testing the limits of your body after operation. "Oof, yeah. I mean I might need a nap or something. ...I don't really want to run around doing things that require using my eyes, right now," you explained. And it was true, you knew it would be difficult.

Looking over towards Athena nodding in understanding, you surprisingly saw "Jack" trying to strangle her, the sight causing you to burst out laughing into your hands.

"What?" Athena asked, voice stern yet hinting genuine worry. "What is it?"

"Oh nah, nah, it's nothing Athena," you answered with a laugh and a dumb smile, wiping tiredness from your unafflicted eye. "The drugs just _really_ need to wear off. I swear. I'll walk out into the lobby when I think it's through with. The nap should help."

"...Right. ...Well, be careful." With that said, Athena opened the door and exited back into the warehouse, leaving you alone with a now mildly perplexed hallucination, leaning against the wall to your right again.

Turning onto your side, you placed your head in your hand and watched him mutter to himself. "Why did you try strangling Athena?" you asked him curiously, yet in a more hushed tone now that you knew people might hear.

He sighed. "It's a long story, pumpkin. I'll tell ya sometime."

Then, abruptly, after yet another unprecedented sigh, he pushed himself off from the wall and began towards the farthest end of the room. "Ya know, I've got some things to figure out. Catch you later, sweetheart," he said with a wink, phasing through the wall and out of sight.

"Wait!" you whisper-shouted after him, kind of wanting him to return to your side. It was nice to have company to distract from the pain. But he was gone, though he left with some sort of sign that he'd return. _Well, hopefully not. I'd rather this all wear off already._

It felt like your entire eye was pulsating, and you were worried about testing out the Echo-Eye's capabilities just yet, understandably. The new cybernetic parts in your head that allowed the eye to function were also a tad hard to adjust to; you could feel the presence of all the technology alarmingly close to your brain, and it kind of concerned you considering future fights. _Does that thing bounce around? If someone like Kembet decks me in the face again, is my brain just going to... _absorb_ the piece? ...Ouch. I should ask Janey if it's secured, or whatever._

You flipped over and let a fitful sleep overtake you, finally giving your body some sense of relief after recent events.

* * *

"So nothing... interesting?" Sasha asked, her tone hopeful yet with a twinge of doubt.

Gingerly rubbing the back of your neck, you replied, "Yeah, I mean... Haven't really noticed anything interesting yet. A lot of it was just the anesthesia. I could just update you if anything comes up, if that's alright?"

She let out an exasperated sigh, before collecting herself and nodding in approval. "Sounds good. Please, just, make sure you let us know anything as soon as you can," Sasha pleaded, her expression a bit disappointed. You could tell she was so ready to find some sort of clue about where her sister and Rhys had disappeared to. Had this small Echo-Eye venture been for nothing, maybe she wondered?

"Yeah, of course," you agreed.

Off to the side, you could see Vaughn fiddling with his fancy money glasses, transferring the cash to your account. "Hey, (y/n)," he beckoned, so you went over to chat.

"Yeah, what's up?" you wondered.

“Listen... I just wanted to say, thanks again for all the, the understanding and things. I mean we both know I’m about to pay you but... I’m glad we’re still friends, even after so much has changed since all this time.” He was smiling sincerely at you, his eyes too, though they also reflected money numbers.

“Of course, Vaughn,” you replied with a smile of your own. “Come here bud.” You pulled him into one last hug, until who knew when would be next. Never? It was hard to know if there would ever be second chances for anything on Pandora. Seeing him yesterday had been a bit of a relief. Losing people got tough.

“You take care out there, alright?” Vaughn said as he pulled away, a concerned tone to his voice. Was that a sniffle you heard? “And don’t die! I’m sure Rhys will be glad to see you too. Don’t leave us both hanging, k?”

“Sure, Vaughn,” you replied, nodding. “You know I’ll start catching bullets with my teeth before I die. Too stubborn.”

* * *

Sentimental stuff was _draining_. You kicked one of Lorenzo’s legs out from under a front wheel, partly for the practicality of _not_ making a further mess of his corpse, and partly to take out personal frustration. _And if he ever kicks me back, I’ll rename him Lazarus. Poor guy._

Jumping in the drivers seat, you turned the ignition and hopped in reverse, pulling out of the warehouse lot and back through the canyon. However, not too far gone, not quite the same way backwards that you came. There was a small stop you had planned, since at least it was nearby.

In a ditch shadowed from the approaching predawn light, you cleared out a nest of skags with your already blood-stained wheels, and parked in front of their former home cave, getting out once it was clear. You then began a relatively short walk to an area of Hyperion wreckage maybe 70 yards away. There was a little bit of navigation to do among the metal shrapnel and techy wiring that sometimes caused electrical fires, as well as makeshift vandalized structures probably created by bandits, but you knew the way, you made visits when time allowed. And soon enough, you were there.

You assumed most people probably took it for a pile of garbage rather than a grave, which wasn't your original intention, but it was alright, you shrugged off the thought. At first it was just a spaceship panel you shoved in the dirt, signature Hyperion yellow and black, until eventually you decided an offering pile might be nice. Being that you didn't always have much, however, it was starting to really look like an actual garbage pile.

A now-rusted pin that once had a clover on it, a fake golden trophy you once found, though the entire torso section had been melted off, 5$ bound by a paper clip, which you put under the trophy so no one would steal it. Some other trash too. You just hoped it was the thought that count.

Sighing, you sat criss-cross in the dust, rearranging the pile to look a little nicer as you began to talk.

"Hi, Dad," you started, not necessarily uncomfortable with the thought of talking to a dead guy. Most Pandorans were the same level of weird, which made it normal. 

"I've had a weird week, I guess," you continued nonchalantly, turning a decorated shard of plate in your scratched hands. "That asshole Kembet is back. Jeez I hate him. I met up with Vaughn, I dunno if you ever knew him. Nah, probably not. Anyways, I got an Echo-Eye! Pretty neat, I think. Did you know what they were? Maybe you did. That would make sense... Ugh, I dunno."

You scratched the back of your head after setting down the shard, frustrated wondering what else you could summarize or wonder to him. "Hey, Dad, have you ever been on drugs?" you asked. "Like, really _wacky_ stuff that makes you hallucinate? Not to say your kid is a druggy, but that's just been my morning." Reaching into your back pocket, you pulled out an uncased CD, settling it down to rest in the pile by the trophy. "I found this, it didn't work when I tried to play it, but don't you think they're pretty cool looking?" You slowly turned the disc in the dirt with a finger, watching light display rainbow lines of color across the surface. "I've always thought so."

Then, you just sat for a few more minutes, silently, as people usually do when they do something profound or sometimes speechless. Though you'd never admit it, it was hard growing up without your dad. While your mom made it _very_ clear that the reasons were specific and unarguable, you wished you could have been born different, so things would have been normal and good and un-Pandoran, despite the planet's enigmatic charm. Things just could have been so _good_.

"Fuck!" you let out, expression now more sad and agitated than usual. "I'm out of here." Pushing yourself up and dusting off your clothes, you ran back to your ride and jumped in over the door, knowing you'd slam it closed if you bothered opening it. " _Shit_..." You rested your head in your hands, elbows on the stained dashboard ahead of you as you neared a mini breakdown. "You're such an asshole, Dad... Glad to know you'd choose some corporate murderer over _me_... Fuck you." Hands in the air saying 'I'm so done with this,' you then started the racer and clenched your fingers on the wheel, ready to get the hell out of the wreckage of Helios and your heart.

"Hey, is that a Hyperion grave?" someone asked behind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This is actually a memory I included as a reference to one of my brothers once doing this with cat poop at college. I thought it might be fun to shove in! x^p
> 
> AND AGAIN I AM ACTUALLY LITERALLY VERY SORRY FOR THIS BEING LATE ;^; I PROMISE I ALREADY HAVE A LOT OF DRAFTS UP FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS AND THAT I WILL NOT ABANDON THIS PIECE AND THAT I _WILL_ FINISH IT! I feel horrible that I lost everyone's faith in that with how long this hecking took... It's not like the chapter was difficult to write, I literally just wrote the last 500 words this last half-hour before I posted the chapter, it was mainly about how ready I felt to write and if I would have the time. But... yeah. :^(
> 
> ALSO I BARELY DID ANY BETTER, THIS HAS LIKE 26 ELLIPSES MY BAD
> 
> (...also also, being this is the chapter where I introduced Jack to the entire thing, feel free to give me constructive criticism on how I've written his character, or feel free to ask questions if you ever get confused with my storyline! I may not be able to answer certain things since they'll be coming up, but just ask, it won't hurt!)


	4. Do I Know You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Who's PUMPED for all that new BL3 news? Wow!!! It's only been, what, 7 years?
> 
> Anyways, despite all the new hype, I'm really hoping that this fic will at least live out until then. Since it focuses a lot on stuff from the latest entries of the series, I'm just a bit worried about everything being overshadowed by the new, and that I just took way too much time releasing chapters and working on this fic. After all, there at least isn't anymore wondering about Rhys, since we saw him in the trailer. With a _mustache_ , too! Damn, you go Rhys.
> 
> I'm still going to address the mystery in the same way as I was before, but I guess slightly less so. Even though it's a big plot point, I'll try to focus in more on the relationship with HJ.
> 
> Thanks for sticking around anyways! Feel free to talk with me in the comments about all that new BL news! I'm so excited!!!
> 
>  
> 
> (Also, I think a good song for this chapter would be The Devil Takes Care of His Own by Band of Skulls, if you also want something to listen to! At the very least, the title carries some relevance about Handsome Jack...  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1oS3xxv2zhI )

"Oh, _fuck off_."

"What?" Jack asked, with a semi-confused smile on his blue face, his feet propped up on the headrest of your drivers seat. "You didn't miss me?"

"No. I didn't. Go away," you scolded bluntly, leaning forward onto the wheel and putting your head into your arms. You really didn't need this garbage right now.

"Oh, cheer up, cupcake! Where I go, the party goes," he explained with a clap of excitement, assuming that you were in the mood for a party. Or, at least he was. "...So, where are we headed next?"

"Somewhere I can clear my head. By the time we get there you'll _hopefully_ be gone."

"...Talk about _rude!_ " Jack protested with sharp laughter, as he set his chin on the shoulder of your seat and gave you an annoying jolt of surprise.

Your first response was to turn in your seat and slap him, which failed pathetically as your hand phased through his face with a small, sad _whooshing_ noise.

_I'm an idiot._

He continued to laugh with condescension at you, especially flared up by your failure at hitting him. Not sparing a hallucination anymore of your time, you turned back forward and started the ignition, struggling at first with the pure frustrated energy now coursing through your fingers. Jack somehow interpreted the hum of the engine as his cue to step through the middle of the racer and plop himself into the passenger seat.

_I guess I really must hate myself, if my imagination goes through all this trouble purely to annoy the shit out of me._

Leaning to the side as you pulled out in reverse, you saw Jack shaking his head through your bent side-mirror.

"Uh uh uh, seat-belt, babe," Jack chastised, still with that shit-eating grin.

Groaning, you pulled the seat-belt over your torso and clicked it in place. "Fuck. You."

"Ah," he started, "do we have a 'cool hyper-badass' chick over here? ...What, too rebellious for safety?"

"GOD, _what_ are you _taking_ , Jack? _Stop being so hyper_ , fucking _chill!_ " you warned him, with a honk on the wheel for flair. "What is your _deal?_ When are you going to leave me alone?!"

"My _deal, (Y/N)_ , is that you're a vessel. You're carrying me around. ...And I've learned from my mistakes," he replied with surprising coldness, crossing his arms and looking past towards the road as you pulled onto it.

"...Where's the punchline?" you asked after a moment, understanding none of the jargon he just answered with. "Vessel?"

"It's a long story."

"Well, you _did_ say earlier that you had a _different_ long story," you reminded him, calming down as he stopped being on your case. "And you said you'd tell me later. Now is, technically, later."

"...Well, you never answered _my_ question."

"What question?"

"The Hyperion grave."

"Well it's none of your goddamn business," you informed him simply.

"Great, glad we have that settled then. So is mine." Sighing, Jack ended the weird conversation with, "Just stay _alive_ ," before completely phasing out of view.

_Good riddance._

* * *

_And now... Finally something good today._

You watched with a smile as the 12th rakk fell dead to the ground, a satisfying poof of dust accompanying the impact. The twirling blue scope of your Echo-Eye zoomed back into regular focus, and you lowered your pistol into its holster.

"The eye is accurate alright..."

Traipsing over to the murdered flock, you crouched down and began to wrap dark cords around the dozen of little monsters, in a way that looked a bit like tied up rotisserie chicken. Wiping your brow as the noon sun was rising, you dragged them a few at a time into the backseats of your racer, dead meat and material bundles you were eager to sell for new equipment.

"I should probably drop one off at Deady's, too, as a 'Sorry-I-Basically-Tased-You' gift. ...Is it bad that this isn't the first time I've given a gift for that reason?" You shrugged.

Putting the last of them into the racer, a metallic _ting_ went past you, and you saw a new bullet hole to your side. You darted behind the vehicle for cover, and after a moment you leaned outward and scanned the horizon. Your eye twirled into focus again, pinpointing movement in the distance.

_A sniper on the hill. And now a technical. Two technicals. Bandits._

Haphazardly you began to load up your revolver, but not yet used to quickly switching around the Echo-Eye functions you were still far too focused, and ended up scattering your bullets on the ground.

"Shit. What am I doing?"

Messing with the focus while you scrambled for ammunition, you heard another few bullets fly, most missing widely and just causing small plumes in the desert dust, while others again pierced your racer. You could hear the bandits' rallying cries as they got nearer, closing in on the unassuming scavenger.

"Didn't I tell you to avoid these sorts of situations?" Jack asked with a sigh, suddenly at your side making you jolt yet again.

"Go away," you asked simply, shakily sliding the bullets into your pistol. "You'll just distract me."

"Oh, I can do more than be a distraction," he promised.

"Save it," you snapped. You clicked the barrel into place and cocked the gun, before leaping over the door and into the space within the racer.

A technical sped on and on towards you, until you realized too late that it had no intention of stopping. _Oh shi-_

The metal machine slammed into your racer, making it spin and skid as you did your best not to fly out, teeth gritting with pressure. Once everything stopped moving, you shook your head and hopped out clumsily. Your racer was now horizontal to the front of the bandit technical, forming a momentary barrier. One bandit popped up from the side and you blew him back through a shot to the chest. You could hear two more coming and tried to prepare for it.

_I wish I had more cover. This wouldn't be so bad if I just made it to the canyons again_ , you thought hopelessly. Out on the desert was the worst place to get caught, there was nothing to use, only improvised strategy.

As your mind grasped at straws, you went for the closest thing to good cover and slid under the racer. Spotting their feet walking at close-range, you put them out of order with a couple of bullets, and the bandits fell with shouting. Once they were on the ground too they could see where you were hiding, but their surprise prevented them from getting anything back at you before you literally blew their minds, splattering blood against the sand as their bodies slumped against each another.

The farther technical was getting much closer, and you could hear it fervently speeding just like the other one. Scrambling back out from underneath, you spotted the sniper running closer and the other bandits headed on.

And then the technical swerved into the sniper with enough force to kill him. And _then_ the technical smashed into a steep mound and flipped over three times.

You smiled to yourself. _Don't drink and drive?_ came to mind.

Then four bandits crawled out of the wreckage and started running towards you. You ran back to cover behind the enemy technical, dropping your empty revolver, and propped the closest gun up onto the hood for better stability, one of the dead bandit's Slag SMG. You kept your head out of sight until you heard them approach.

"YAHHHHH," screeched a little midget psycho, jumping up onto the hood and throwing a hatchet. You flipped to the side and dodged it, and flipped back to fill him with hot purple lead as he continued to scream and babble.

A larger bandit marauder made his way around and you gave him the same, he fell back with a defeated grunt. Another went by but he was firing fast with an assault rifle, angrily shouting and stomping around. You crouched down and crept along the other side of the technical to avoid him.

On the other side a bandit was scouting for you, and spotting you he laughed and got a lucky shot in through your left arm.

"Gfff, _shit_ ," you winced, bringing back up the SMG with your other arm. He was about to put in another shot when your racer revved up, and with only enough time to see it he was run to the ground as it shot forward and rode him into the dirt. It bounced over his body as he grunted, and sped on and on through the desert.

_Who the fuck stole my car?!_

You checked back under the enemy technical for feet, but seeing none you got up and turned around. The marauder with the AR from before was right there, about to shoot too when the radio on the technical flipped on.

_"-is Helena Hellquist, of Hyperion Truth Broadcasting! Today we bring you an announcement that in-"_

"Huh?" While the bandit was thrown off, you took the opportunity to shoot him through the head. As he fell to the ground, you took a moment to feel confused too.

_Who keeps messing with me?_

You crept around the side, looking for a 5th bandit. You couldn't hear anything out of order, other than the radio continuing to talk...

"God, I love Hyperion propaganda," said Jack right next to you, reappearing and almost making you jump out of your shoes.

"Damn it, knock it off!" you whispered angrily. "There's still one more."

"No, there isn't," he said, apparently thinking that would explain everything.

"Well who killed the sniper, stole my car, and started blasting the radio?!" you asked.

"Clearly someone who wants to help you out, sweetheart."

You looked around, and watched eerily as your racer pulled back towards the battle scene, no driver in sight.

"...I doubt it."

However, you stood up and began searching the wreckage anyways, no longer apprehensive of any other bandits. You picked up guns and anything useful and dropped them into your now mess-of-a-car, rakk bundles jostled and staining your seats with new blood, tech scrambled on the floor of the front seats and across the dash. There were new bullet holes in your racer too, but luckily none of the tires seemed popped.

Jack sat on the hood while you ignored his presence and worked with moving around your scavenged things. _"Damn, they're discontinuing HTB?"_ he whispered to himself, still listening to the radio drone on. _"Guess that makes sense..."_

The radio flipped off on its own, and Jack began whistling in annoyed boredom. You turned around to glare at the radio.

"Is it broken?" you wondered aloud. _I shouldn't be that surprised. This is Pandora, the birthplace of weirdness randomly happening to people._

You finished up and got into your racer, shoving aside everything that fell onto your seat. Without realizing it, you brushed off the passenger seat, too.

“Thanks, babe,” said Jack, taking the seat. “Where are we headed?”

“A market to sell stuff. And my apartment to store stuff. And somewhere to look at my arm.”

“Could’ve turned out a lot worse, couldn’t’ve it?” he commented abjectly. “How have you survived Pandora this long, on your own?”

“I wasn’t prepared,” you grumbled, not appreciating Jack questioning you. “There wasn’t any cover. My guns are improvised, since my real ones were stolen. My Echo-Eye freaked me out. Some bandit was running around being whack.”

He seemed like he was about to answer your excuses with something snarky, so you interrupted him by loudly driving your racer past the bandit technical and speeding off towards Eridene.

* * *

“Pissing break. Don’t look.”

“Who, me? Why, I’m a perfect example of Pandoran civility.”

“Pandoran civility doesn’t exist,” you replied absently, doing the do behind a jagged rock.

“Exactly!”

You glared at that, but he was still looking away and smiling to himself.

Once you finished, you jumped back into the racer and started back onto the main road. Ten minutes later and the road was blocked. Canyon collapse.

“Damn bandits. They ruin everything,” you muttered, pulling the racer into reverse and going a different route.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Jack mumbled to himself.

The gravel crunched under the wheels, the wheels rumbled against potholes and dips as you swerved onto a better road. One that would take longer, unfortunately meaning you’d have to bear Jack’s banter for an extra five minutes.

Rakks flew, skags chased tumbleweeds, the wildlife seemed excited as you drove by. Tiny clouds tried to obscure the sun, but big dry mountains succeeded where they failed, providing ample shade against the heat.

“Wow, look at _that_ handsome guy!” Jack pointed out gleefully, watching a billboard off the side-road. You focused in on what he was seeing, and gradually your foot released the gas as the racer slowed to a drawl.

Eventually it stopped entirely. The billboard was thoroughly shot through and vandalized, but underneath it, you recognized a recent face and a name from farther in the past.

“ _Handsome Jack?_ ” Your face must have blanched as you said it, because Jack smiled all the brighter at your reaction.

“Well _finally!_ I thought, well shit, everyone knows me!” he laughed. “Eventually you figured it out.”

You looked at him worriedly, your mind whirring like a wind vane in a storm. _Why is he in my head. Why won’t he go away. Did he kill those other bandits? What have I gotten into? None of this was ever worth it!_

Your face must have read pure terror, as Jack gave an awkward laugh in response. “Oh, don't shit yourself, kiddo. It’s not so bad!”

And then you hardened your expression. “Leave. Right now.”

“Uh, I can’t do that. As much as I’d like to-”

“Just go _away!_ ” You commanded. “I don’t care where. Leave me alone! Go!!!”

He seemed off-put by your reaction, but shrugged and complied anyways. “I’ll do what I can,” he said with a frustrated sigh, phasing out, at least for the moment.

Once he left, you set your head in your arms against the dash again.

_I’ve fucked up big time. I should have told Athena that there’s a blue man named Jack in my head. Damn it, what have I done?!_

You rubbed your temples and continued to think, slowing your breathing and calming the temptation to cry. _Okay... Okay... Let’s just... think this through._

_He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t want to kill me, he wants me to stay alive, because I’m carrying him around. An unwilling host to a parasite._

_He probably killed those other bandits, and therefore he helped me. Probably. I could’ve handled it. He underestimated me._

_“UGH,”_ you groaned, frustrated with your wandering thoughts.

_His past is stained with blood. No one likes him, but that’s for good reason._

_He built Hyperion. He hates bandits. He hates Pandora. He hates_ sirens. 

_I’m fucking screwed!_


End file.
